


Soldiers in your bed

by 796116311389



Category: Folgers "Home for the Holidays" Commercial, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Incest, Inspired by Folgers "Home for the Holidays" Commercial, Jealous John, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Snogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/796116311389/pseuds/796116311389
Summary: Saw it was recently the 10th anniversary of the infamous Folgerscest commercial. In honour of that have a Johnlock Folgercest AU. ;)****John moved in with Sherlock the same day he saw the flat. It took him nearly two weeks though to meet Sherlock's boyfriend.Of course Sherlock's boyfriend was a ridiculously posh man of little words.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 100





	Soldiers in your bed

**Author's Note:**

> I hate Folgers coffee. I'm not kind to it in this fic. You've been warned.

John moved in with Sherlock the same day he saw the flat. It took him nearly two weeks though to meet Sherlock's boyfriend. He had said at dinner when Sherlock returned from his outing that singular evening that it was all fine. Sherlock claimed to be married to his work and that was that, or so John thought. 

John walked in on the two of them sharing a deep soulful stare and then the man let himself out all without introducing himself. Of course Sherlock's boyfriend was a ridiculously posh man of little words. John told himself the sense of disappointment he felt at the discovery wasn't because he knew he was inadequate for a man like Sherlock. 

When John asked who he was, Sherlock didn't even glance at him as he said, "Mycroft." And nothing else. 

Now another two weeks have gone by and John has seen the man several times. Mostly as Mycroft is coming or going, though once he turned up at the outskirts of a crime scene. Just watching. John had pointed him out, in case Sherlock hadn't noticed (unlikely, but not impossible). Sherlock merely waved John off and said he'd talk to him later. 

John assumed the stiffness of Sherlock's tone was that they _were_ at an active crime and he probably _hadn't_ told everyone he was in a relationship, and with a man at that. 

Which leads him to today. He has nothing on and had assumed he and Sherlock might go out for a nice brunch, but his plans are dashed as Sherlock comes swanning out of his room an absolutely dark look on his face. 

"Mycroft is coming over," Sherlock frowns. 

"Oh, would you like me to leave?"

Sherlock's look changed to one of puzzlement, "Whatever for? His visit will be infinitely more bearable with you by my side."

Ah. That explains his dark look a moment earlier. A lover's spat. It was probably a bit much for John to hope Sherlock breaks up with Mycroft. 

"Ok then."

A knock on the door and Mycroft enters before either can invite him in. John instinctively doesn't like the smarmy way Mycroft enters and sits in _his_ chair. Sherlock appears to like it even less. 

"You weren't invited in."

"I'm not a vampire Sherlock."

John swears he can feel the temperature in the air drop a few degrees and a lifetime of dealing with other people's tensions has him up and off in the kitchen in a flash. 

"I'll just make some coffee then."

He gets no response and realizes that Sherlock and Mycroft are mooning at each other _again_. So. Still deeply attached. 

Just a tiff.

John can't help the sigh of disappointment he gives.

He brews a pot of Folgers coffee. Absolutely bland stuff, but perhaps Mycroft will leave more quickly because of it and John can still salvage his brunch plans with Sherlock.

John generally isn't the passive aggressive type but he can't help himself from handing Sherlock his coffee and plunking Mycroft's next to the man. 

He can pick up his own coffee. 

John takes a seat next to Sherlock's chair and sips his own cup of coffee. 

It's quiet a moment and then Mycroft speaks, "You must."

"I won't." 

"If you don't, brother mine. I'll make you."

And with that John's whole world tipped over. Mycroft was Sherlock's _brother_?!

John's mouth gaped open and all the tact in the world couldn't have saved him.

"Oh my God. You're fucking your brother."

John thought the whole spitting your drink out in disbelief thing was just a television invention, but it turns out it has its origins in reality. He watches as both Sherlock and Mycroft spit out their drinks and exclaim in unison, "What?!"

They both stare at John speechless and John feels like he may have misinterpreted something. 

Sherlock is the first to recover. He splutters, "What are you talking about?! How could you think I would ever. Ever." Sherlock waves his hands in the general direction of Mycroft. "With him!"

John had clearly made a mistake but his embarrassment had him doubling down. "Well! If you weren't always mooning at him and. And. It's not like you ever told me who he was! How should I've known? It's not like you have that much family resemblance."

"Well thank God for that, but we don't 'moon' at each other. We are of an intellect above normal people and are communicating without actually speaking to each other."

"Well that's fucking stupid."

Sherlock made am affronted noise and pulled his head back, scandalized.

Mycroft cuts in, "John. What my brother means to say is that we both already know how the other will respond and so we can each carry out the whole conversation within out minds without uttering a single word."

John deadpans, "I'm starting to see the family resemblance now."

Both brothers looked at John like he had called them the foulest of rude words. 

John stood. "Right. Well, I'm hungry and I don't want to go through any more of this conversation."

John made it halfway down the stairs before Sherlock came barreling down after him and stopped him with a hand on his bicep. "John. Wait."

"What, Sherlock?" John had meant for his voice to come out sharply, instead it comes out wearily. 

"John. I also couldn't be dating Mycroft because he's not my type."

John gives Sherlock a confused look, "Good, for you?" 

Sherlock shakes his head and growls in frustration, "I'm not being clear. Mycroft isn't my type. You are."

"Me?"

Sherlock gives John an insulted look, "Yes. _You._ "

"Oh."

"Oh, for heaven's sake John. You're attracted to me. Just admit it so we can kiss."

"Uh, yes?" 

"Good enough." And then Sherlock is pulling John up the stairs to the landing, pushing him against the wall, and kissing him. Throughly.

John brings his hands up and runs them through Sherlock's curls, grabbing them, ensuring their kiss doesn't break for a moment. 

It isn't until a polite cough up the stairs a bit startles them. 

They break apart, flushed and panting, trouser lines indelicately broken. 

Mycroft purses his mouth in displeasure at their rumpled state. "I'll just be leaving now."

Sherlock scowls, "Then leave."

"I would if certain persons would remove themselves from obstructing the stairway."

Sherlock scowls harder, grabs John's hand, and pulls him up the stairs and past Mycroft. 

Mycroft tips his head, "I'll contact you later Sherlock." 

Sherlock gives Mycroft the two finger salute and then he and John are down the hall and in the bedroom. 

"Now, where were we?"

*****

The next morning John wakes to an empty bed and the smell of coffee. He gets up, slightly achy from their vigorous activities from the day before. It makes him flush and grin with pride. 

He decides to forgo decency and walks naked into the kitchen. 

He's apparently not alone in anticipation for the current days plans; Sherlock is pouring two cups of coffee while only wearing his burgundy dressing gown. 

Sherlock hands him his coffee. 

They sip a moment in silence, until Sherlock makes a displeased sound. 

"This coffee is awful John."

"Yeah, but the jingle is catchy."

"There's nothing like waking up to Folgers in your cup?" Sherlock pauses, "Hmm, may have proved your point there."

"Adaptable too. There's nothing like waking up to _soldiers_ in your cup?"

"Ah, bed, I believe, makes more sense. Though less rhyme-y."

John sets his coffee down and steps to Sherlock pressing their bodies together, "Bed does make more sense. Best idea you've ever had." John reaches up and places a soft kiss on Sherlock's lips. 

"Well I'm finding it's quite true that there's nothing quite like waking up to a soldier in my bed."

"Then let's get me back there."

"And that is the best idea _you've_ ever had."


End file.
